Unexpected Caller
by CarpeDiemForLife
Summary: Mr. Gold is still plagued at night by visions of a young woman whom he had once loved then lost. Believing her to be dead, he is struck to the core when the same young woman stumbles into his house in the dead of night. Mr. Gold/Belle
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Second oneshot for Rumpelstiltskin/Belle. This time... the real world. Please review! And thank you so much for the incredible response to my last oneshot for this wonderful pairing._

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><p>Mr. Gold twitched in his sleep, his face contorted into a pained expression.<p>

"I _do_ want to believe, I _do_," he whispered aloud, "But how can I? Belle- No, wait please, don't-"

Mr. Gold's eyes snapped open and his body lunged upward into a seated position as he awoke from his nightmare. His left hand immediately went to claw at his chest, furiously trying to break through the barrier of skin and rip out his caged heart.

Breathing heavily, Gold looked around his dark room- his room that belonged to a world not of fairytales and not of happy endings. A world without Belle. But this was a _good_ thing of course. It was her presence in his dreams that hurt him the most. Why couldn't his memories of her be snuffed out, as her own life had been? That would be fine. There would be nothing to torment him then.

But he couldn't forget her. Not a single brown hair on her head, not her knowing smile, not the feeling of her lips pressed firmly against his...

Taking in short breathy gasps of air, Gold shook as the tears tumbled down his cheeks, hissing as they collided with the cold wood floor.

"Belle," he moaned, rocking slightly.

Suddenly, Gold heard a noise from outside the window. Freezing immediately, he listened close and heard the pitter-patter of feet on the porch that extended from the back of his house. After a moment, there was a distinct clicking sound, followed by the creak of a door and a soft clunk.

Someone had broken in.

His nerves calming instantly in the face of danger, Mr. Gold's tears vanished into thin air, and he cracked his neck as he picked up the gun on his bedside table. Padding softly across the floor in his socks, he pushed the door open gently and proceeded into the hallway. Peeking around the corner, he could see no one on the staircase or below it.

Very cautiously, he tread down the steps before turning into the dining room. Still no one. Creeping across the room, Mr. Gold paused before entering the kitchen, the room which connected with the backyard porch. Sure enough, Gold could hear very soft breathing in the night's stillness. Holding up the gun firmly, Gold stepped quickly into the kitchen, leveling the weapon at the figure there.

"Oh God please, don't- don't shoot," pleaded the girl. Gold had barely even heard her. As soon as he'd taken in the intruder's appearance, he had stumbled backwards, landing heavily against the wall. The gun dropped from his grip as both his hands pressed against the wall, as if he were trying to get farther away from her.

"I'm... I'm sorry I've broken into your house," the girl continued slowly, her emotions a mélange of fear, confusion, and concern. "Please let me stay. Just for tonight."

A heavy silence hung in the air between the two, as the man remained bug-eyed and the girl watched him cautiously for some sort of response.

"What are you doing here?" he finally whispered, pushing himself off the wall and walking hesitantly her way. The girl forced herself to hold her ground.

"I... I've run away and... they may be coming after me. No, I'm sure of it. They _are_ coming after me. I couldn't run any further so I entered your house. Please, do not throw me out."

"But how are you _here_?" he continued, his voice hoarse and quiet. "You can't be... here...

"Who are you?" he snapped finally. The girl gave a bit of a frightened start.

"I don't... know," she admitted, her lips trembling.

"You know nothing of who you are?" he demanded.

"No, not at all."

"Then where have you run from?"

"All I can remember is... being locked in that horrid dungeon-"

"Dungeon?" Gold interrupted quickly, evaluating the girl sharply, "That's a strange word to use. Not many people would use that word."

"Cell," she replied nervously, "I meant... prison cell."

"But you _said_... dungeon," he exclaimed, seeming darkly fascinated by this fact.

"Yes, I suppose I did," she said firmly, "As I was saying, I only remember being held in there and the woman with the black hair would sometimes look in on me, smiling smugly. I _don't_ know how long I was in there, and I can't remember _anything_ about my life before it, not even my name."

The girl searched Mr. Gold's face curiously.

"Do you... know it, sir?"

"How did you escape?" he questioned instead, a slightly bewildered, manic expression still lingering in his eyes. The girl was aggravated that he'd ignored her question, but she wasn't exactly in the best position to be making demands. After all, he could still have her arrested if he wanted. Or he could shoot her.

"The janitor," she answered. "He was drunk, and he let me out. He said that I was a 'pretty thing' and that he'd release me 'in return for a favor'. So... I let him cart me out with his things, but as soon as we were out, I ran. I ran as far as I could. Please sir, _what is my name_?"

At the end of her speech, Gold's crazed expression had faded from his eyes, but the shock which had been stifling his emotions had also faded. As a tidal wave of passionate feelings came crashing down upon his senses, Gold froze, his body tensing up. The searing anger blazed through him, burning a murderous path in his skin. Flames flickered in the depths of his eyes.

And yet, he had to control himself. He had to remain in control of the situation, and by all means, he could _not scare her away_. Gold struggled viciously to rope down his hatred and contempt, his wild anger at the one who had lied to him, who had taken precious time from him.

As he did so, the man was silent, his features completely frozen as if he existed in a place outside of time's control. If she hadn't known better, the woman might have been convinced that he was a statue. The minutes passed, and she was becoming very seriously worried.

_Should I call 911?_ she wondered desperately, _Is he having some sort of attack?_

Finally, Gold seemed to snap out of whatever had been entrancing him as he felt the last bursts of anger yield under his iron will. Straightening up, he smiled innocently.

"And why should I know _your_ name, dearie?"

"You do, I'm certain of it."

"So sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid... I do not!" he exclaimed, with some amount of restrained glee.

"I believe you are lying, sir."

"Well now, that's rather presumptuous of you, don't you think?" he whispered dangerously, still smiling at her, "After all, I could call the police right now if I wished."

"The police would _help_ me," she returned defiantly. Mr. Gold seemed to consider this, and then he shrugged.

"Perhaps you're right. Well then. How about _this_: I could call the 'woman with the black hair'!... if I wished. You would be picked up and dropped back into your little dungeon. How would you like that?"

"You know the woman?" repeated the girl amazedly. "How can you be sure?"

"Oh trust me, I'm sure," he whispered. "It's a small town, dearie."

"Why do you keep _calling_ me that?" she asked frustratedly. Gold's eyebrows rose in his surprise. No one had ever questioned his universal pet name before.

"Force of habit," he replied with a quirky grin.

"Then you _do_ know me!" she concluded triumphantly. The girl was immediately deflated when Gold threw his head back in a short bout of laughter.

"No, you misunderstand me; I use that name for anyone. It is my manner of speech, that is all. However... even though I do not know your name, you will be needing one, don't you think?"

"Yes... I suppose so..."

"Well then! The solution is clear: we must devise one for you. Perhaps... Anna? Ella? Maggie? Esme? Jo-"

"Esme," she cut in firmly. Mr. Gold gave a small smile and inclined his head.

"Esme is... a beautiful choice."

"Sir... what is _your_ name?"

"I am Mr. Gold, but that is of little importance. So, _Esme_... what is it you want from me?"

"Just to stay the night. That's all I ask."

"Well... I believe that can be arranged," he replied. Esme met his smile with one of her own. Her smile faltered as she saw a treacherous glint enter his eyes. "But it will cost you."

"Cost me what?" she demanded. "I have nothing to give-"

"Ah ah ah! Nothing you own. Just a favor. If I do this for you, you shall owe me a favor. Do we have a deal?"

Esme paused hesitantly. There was foreboding feeling in her heart about this man, and striking an open-ended deal with him seemed like a horrible idea. But if it was true that he could have her placed back in the cell... No. There was no choice.

"Yes. We have a deal Mr. Gold."

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><p>After the deal was struck, Gold insisted that Esme sleep in his bedroom with him: she in the bed, he on the floor. Recognizing the look of distrustful anxiety in her features, Gold merely chuckled.<p>

"There are people chasing you, isn't that so? The only way you'll stay safe is by letting me protect you. No one can get into my room without waking me up. You'd be at risk anywhere else in the house."

"And why do you care? Why are you trying to protect me?"

"Well. I need you alive to hold up your end of the deal, don't I?" he pointed out with a smugly innocent smile. Esme was still unconvinced.

"I don't… trust you," she admitted, holding her head up proudly.

"Trust me dearie, I won't touch you." Esme's expression did not change. "If it would... ease your mind, I will disarm my gun and lock it away, and I'll put a knife by the bed so that if I _try_ anything, you have a way to stop me."

"...That's hardly a guarantee."

"Perhaps, but it's the best you have. After all, what are your options? The deal's already been struck, and unless I am verymuch mistaken... you haven't the slightest desire to go back out there. It's me or the world. I reckon I'm the better choice if you want to live through the night." His voice turned to a teasing whisper at the end, sending a chill through Esme at his dangerous words and the almost seductive tone in which they were delivered.

"Fine," she finally conceded, "Show me where I'll be sleeping."

"Would you like to change first?"

"Into your clothes? Unlikely. Just show me where I'll be sleeping. ...Please." Mr. Gold bowed ever so slightly and Esme's brow crinkled at his odd behavior.

"As you wish."

Leading her upstairs, Gold situated Esme in the room and kept watch over her as she hunkered down for the night. As soon as she'd gotten under his covers, Esme turned to face the wall so that her back was to Gold and the rest of the room. Gold considered grabbing blankets to lay out on the floor for his own makeshift bed, but he knew that he would not be sleeping that night.

First of all, if Belle truly was in danger—which he reckoned she was—he had to be sure not to let anything happen to her. Second of all, the very appearance of the young woman tonight had quite set his nerves on fire, and there was no way he'd be able to settle down enough to rest. His mind was ablaze with memories of the past, of a brief time in which he'd thought he was happy. Soon enough however, of course, the "happy" had turned to angry, then resentful, then hateful, and finally... mournful. Despairing. Devoid of all hope and empty of all feeling, numb to the pleasures of the world, feeling only the continual sting of the pain of loss. Among these morbid memories were those of the lies spun to him by the Queen's serpent tongue: lies masquerading as true gold when they were no more than straw. Now that he could see her gilded words for what they were, Gold was more convinced than ever that Regina must be made to pay for her treachery, for her damnable conceit. How dare she think that she could conceal the truth from the powerful Rumpelstiltskin?

All this hatred and contempt roiled quietly in the back of his mind- the dark place of his mind that usually dominated his thoughts. But at this time, there was something different on the forefront of his consciousness.

Desire. Regrets. Longing. Love.

Belle, the girl that he had loved, the girl that still drove him mad in his dreams, had returned to him. Though she did not know him, she had returned to him. There had to be some kind of fate involved; it could not possibly be the mere child of chance.

The shock of seeing Belle in this world was immense, and likely the reason that he immediately slipped back into the use of the pet name "dearie" instead of "dear", the name he used in this world. Seeing the almost phantasmal image of a person whom he had thought existed only in the fairytale world had reawakened his old habits, rekindling his feelings from the time when he was known as Rumpelstiltskin.

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><p>A sprinkle of light tiptoed through the window, dusting Esme's rosy cheeks. Her hazel orbs flickered open, blinking a few times to orient herself. Staring into the white plaster walls, a sudden spark of excitement tingled inside of her. Esme threw off the covers and opened herself up to face the airy room.<p>

Mr. Gold quickly rose to his feet from where he had been crouched against the wall.

"What's the matter?" he asked nervously, startled by her sudden movements. Esme simply beamed at him.

"I did it!" she exclaimed, "I broke free, just as I always knew I would. God how I hated being kept locked up like a prisoner. I've always longed for adventure, for the chance to do something grand! Being trapped, caged, never to see the outdoors again... I couldn't bear it."

"You sound as if you truly love nature," commented the man lightly.

"Oh yes," she confirmed.

"And yet I thought you couldn't remember anything before the cell?"

"Nothing specific about my own life, but I could remember the taste of the sky, the smell of the wind, the sound of the stars!"

"Sounds a bit fanciful, don't you think?"

Esme smiled mischievously at him.

"Well, what's life without a bit of fancy?" Mr. Gold was struck momentarily silent by her smile: the bright comfort that he had treasured in his memories, and which was now being presented freely to him once more. Slowly, his own smile quirked onto his face.

"You may be right at that, Esme."

Calming from her energetic realization of her regained freedom, Esme's mouth twisted into a small frown as she examined Gold more closely. Walking over to him, she stopped a few feet away, near enough to peer more closely at his face.

"You look positively haggard," she observed, "Did you sleep at all?"

"Trust me dearie, this is just the way I always look," he replied, smirking. Esme's lips pursed.

"I don't believe you. Were you... staying awake for my sake?"

"Now why would I do that?" he asked quietly, leaning towards her. The shift was subtle, but something in his move and in the tone of his voice restrained Esme from pursuing the question. It would do no good to anger him, especially after he had been so hospitable. Well... hospitable enough. At least he'd let her stay, even if he did frighten her with his antics and strange speech patterns. Esme's heart began to beat faster, thumping loudly in its nervousness.

"Well, thank you for allowing me to stay the night. I suppose I should be going," she said tensely, turning on her heel. Esme looked frantically about the room, searching for something to occupy herself with so that she would not have to look at the room's other occupant.

Hurriedly she made her way to the bed and began straightening the covers, patting out the wrinkles and fluffing the pillow.

"Going... where?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said, "I suppose I'll need to get some new clothes first."

"And how are you planning to pay for them?"

The escaped prisoner stopped her fussing, fear striking her heart like a crash of thunder. Gold was right. How on earth could she maneuver about town without getting caught if she didn't have normal clothes? And how could she get normal clothes without money? How could she do _anything_ without money?

Esme dropped heavily onto the bed, her eyes staring blankly at nothing though her mind was whimpering and screaming, keeping her much busier than she appeared to be physically.

"Luckily for you, Esme, I believe I may have a solution."

The woman's head snapped up quickly, her eyes locking with his as he smiled down at her.

"After all, I still have my end of the deal. You owe me a favor, any favor that I like."

"I still don't understand what I can possibly give you. I own nothing; I don't even have any money."

"As it so happens, there is something very precious which you can give to me. Yourself."

Esme cried out and quickly jumped up, walking around the edges of the room, keeping as far away from him as possible. Gold chuckled.

"Not like that. I assure you, I'm not looking for any sort of... romantic or physical attachment."

"_What_ then?" she demanded.

"I need a maid," he said finally, grinning smugly, "And I have the feeling that you would be _perfect_ for the job. You'll live here with me, I'll supply all the money and clothes you need, and my house stays dust-free. Everyone wins."

"That's ridiculous. I'm not going to stay here forever. I didn't run away from one prison to be trapped in another!"

"Ah, but the deal's already been struck dearie. You can't back out now. Even if you tried, I'd have you whisked away to the dungeon again. Trust me when I say that between my house and that cell, my house is the nicer place to be imprisoned. You'll have your own room and everything, and you'll never have to worry about money."

Esme was quiet for a moment, absorbing all that Gold had said. It certainly was true that agreeing to his demand would reap quite a few benefits for her. Perhaps it was indeed wisest to accept. However, in her heart Esme firmly decided that she would never be held against her will for all eternity. Even as she shook his hand to seal the bargain, she knew that she was not sealing her fate: her life had already been altered once, and it could change again. No matter how high the walls around her, no matter if she was under lock and key, nothing was ever guaranteed to last forever. Nothing could ever hold Esme captive. Not as long as her heart remained elsewhere.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Due to the wonderful response to the first chapter, I've decided to try to continue this story. Here is a short little bridge to the next real chapter. Please review! Thank you so much to those who already have!_

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><p>"<em>She's gone, ma'am."<em>

Regina sat at home, heart heavy as stone as she mulled over this unexpected problem.

"How_ could she be _gone?"

Twirling a glass in her hand, Regina's insides were as cold as the ice in her drink.

"_I swear I don't know!"_

The girl would have to be recovered, that much was obvious. But how?

"_Who else has been down here besides me?"_

The only small consolation was that the search was limited to Storybrooke, seeing as no one could ever leave. The first order of business was clear: Regina and Sydney would search the town looking for any trace of Belle hiding out on the streets or in the woods.

"_No one! Except... the janitor..."_

Regina thought it unlikely that their search would provide fruitful results. In her mind it was most likely that Belle had been found by someone in the town, and that she was now being provided shelter. Perhaps Regina should wait it out a few days, to see if anyone came forward about having found a lost girl. Then she could make her move. After all, even as Mayor, Regina did not have the power to search any home she pleased without a warrant.

_The janitor pleaded, screamed, and wept pathetically as she tossed him in the cell, slamming the door loudly._

However, if Belle had not turned up after a day, the Mayor would be forced to conclude that someone had chosen to keep the girl and protect her, out of pity or sympathy or some other similarly detestable emotion.

_Regina's smile was anything but happy: it was a cruel smile, a terrible smile, and it had the immediate effect of silencing the man's words so that only his choking sobs were heard._

The worst thing that could come out of this catastrophe was that Mr. Gold should be reunited with the girl. That was an entirely unacceptable outcome. That is why Regina made it her top priority from that moment on to find Belle quickly, no matter the cost.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: Thank you for reading! Please review. All feedback is helpful. Thanks so much to everyone who already has reviewed. The support for this story and my Rumpel/Belle oneshot have truly been overwhelming._

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><p>"Miss Swan, good, you're here." Emma resisted the temptation to scowl.<p>

"Yes... The police station is usually a good place to look for the chief of police."

"Yes I know. That's why I'm here. I wish to report a... missing person," said Regina carefully. Emma's eyebrows rose.

"Who's missing?"

"A ward. From the hospital. The person missing happens to be very dangerous, and that is why I'm warning you about her Miss Swan."

"What makes her so dangerous?"

"She's crazy," answered Regina bluntly, "Clinically insane, I'm afraid. The problem is... there's no telling what she'll do out in the open. I need you to be on the lookout for her. I'll be searching for her myself of course, but I thought I could use police assistance with this."

"Of course, Madam Mayor. I'm always glad to help. That is my job after all."

"Indeed." Regina reached inside her coat pocket and drew out a folded paper, handing it to Emma. "I've printed out all her information: physical description, age, and the like. So. I have your assurance that you'll do your best in recovering this lost girl?"

"Absolutely."

"Wonderful," was the dryly appreciate reply. "And I presume that I may trust you to stay quiet about the whole affair? I know how skilled you are at performing investigations in secret."

A spark of distrust bit at Emma's heart, and her expression became sterner.

"Why should I do it in secret?" Regina shot the police chief a condescending smile.

"I'm sure you can understand, Miss Swan, that spreading the news could cause unnecessary panic in the town. Now _you_ may not care about that, but as Mayor, _I'll_ be the one to have to deal with it."

"But... if she's as dangerous as you say, maybe it's better if people are on their guard," Emma pointed out.

"She's crazy, not violent," smirked the Mayor. "The only physical dangers she's ever posed are to herself. Which of why, of course, it is necessary that we find her before she... does anything _permanent_ to herself."

"Like?" Emma prompted cautiously.

"I think you understand what I mean," said Regina, "So if you don't want to be finding a dead body instead of a living, breathing person, I suggest you make finding this girl a top priority. Assuming you care about the lives of the people here, of course."

"Of _course_ I do," whispered Emma, disgusted that Regina could even say such a thing. Regina gave yet another tight smile.

"Glad to hear it. Have a good day Miss Swan." Emma grumbled a bit as the Mayor left her office, but she nevertheless sat down and immediately unfolded the paper, memorizing the details of her missing person.

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><p>The morning of Belle's arrival, Mr. Gold had been controlled primarily by his desire for her, his need for her to stay. The lack of sleep had gone to his brain, allowing the darker recesses of his mind to be numbed out so that he could converse (relatively) cordially with her. Now that she was here to stay however, the suppressed angers were beginning to fight their way to the top of his emotional awareness.<p>

When he came back from work that first day, Mr. Gold stopped dead in his tracks at the image of Esme dusting his table, just like she had done once upon a time, in another life. Seeing that he'd come home, Esme nodded respectfully, to which he gave no response other than to throw a bag of clothes at her. Catching the bag clumsily, Esme watched in confusion as Gold hurried away, his cane pounding against the floor. Slowly, she returned to her work, trying not to think about her master's strange moods.

He did not get any better the next day. In fact, he was worse. The day after showed no signs of improvement either.

"Have I done something wrong, something to offend you?" Esme finally asked on the fourth day. Gold's head snapped towards her, and there was something strangely manic in his expression. Normally he looked so professional and composed, but Esme was unnerved to see that there was clearly a hint of madness tucked away beneath the surface. A madness that for some reason was brought out by _her_.

"Something... wrong?" he repeated, tilting his head. "I don't know dearie, you tell me."

"I don't... recall doing any such thing. It's just that-"

"Just _what_?" he snapped. Esme's heart sped up and she rubbed her sweaty palms against the jeans that Gold had bought her the first day.

"You don't seem happy, Mr. Gold."

Gold looked dumbstruck, but only momentarily; giving a short, humorless laugh, he tried to force his sneer into a less abrasive expression, but he only succeeded in looking harsh and unforgiving.

"You certainly do speak your mind," he commented lightly, attempting to muzzle his rage. Somewhere deep down, Gold understood that the rage was aimed not at Esme but at someone else. He didn't want to take it out on the innocent young woman, but seeing her daily simply brought fresh waves of pain each and every day, and self-restraint was becoming a more difficult task.

"Yes, I do."

"Well. Perhaps a little less talking, a little more cleaning?" he mocked tersely, before stomping away with his cane once more.

Two days later, the atmosphere had worsened further. The tension had increased to a painful amount, and Esme felt as if the very air boiled when Gold was in the room.

"Mr. Gold, I honestly insist that you tell me if-" pressed Esme, not for the first time that evening. But Gold had reached the end of his self-control.

"Is there never a moment of peace and quiet with you?" he shouted, "Your face makes me sick, is that what you want to hear? Every time I come home and see you, I want to rip every single brown hair off your head and throw you out on the filthy street."

Mr. Gold began stalking towards Esme, malice burning in his eyes. Frightened, she backed away from him as quickly as possible. Bumping into the mantelpiece, she hurried off to the left, towards the kitchen. Now Gold stood by the mantelpiece and for a moment it looked as if he was going to continue chasing her through the house. However, the clock resting upon the wooden ledge caught his eye. Allowing the fury inside of him to explode outwards, Gold suddenly lashed out, dashing the clock to the floor. Esme gasped as the clock broke, shattering into a million shards of glass. Gold didn't stop there however. Swinging his cane above his head, Gold smashed each and every photo frame and trinket on his mantelpiece.

"She LIED to me!" he shouted as he swung, the sound of breaking glass ringing in the air, "She _thought_ that she could lie to me! That snake of a queen has no idea what I'm capable of! NO one treats me in such ways!

"And _you_," he snarled, turning on Esme who began to stumble backwards in fear once more, "Why did you come back? WHY ARE YOU HERE? You should be dead—_dead—_gone forever, how dare you come back and do this to me! YOU LEFT ME!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she cried.

"Get out. Get OOOUT!"

Terrified, Esme tripped over her own feet as she ran to the back door. Just as her hand touched the lock, Gold roared,

"NO! Stop. No, don't leave. You can't, you _mustn't leave. _Ever. You are staying here."

Steeling herself, Esme whirled around to face him, angry tears in her eyes.

"You're crazy!" she exclaimed. "You'll get me killed. I am _not_ staying."

Mr. Gold walked briskly over to her, slamming his hands against the door on either side of her body, trapping her in.

"You will _stay_," he hissed, "or you will _die_."

Her heart pounding at his threat, Esme ducked nimbly under his arm and ran off to her room upstairs, fighting back tears all the way.

Gold collapsed against the door, regret already making his insides sick. Covering his face with his hands, he fought back tears of his own. He'd never meant to fly off the handle at her. It was so unlike him. Rumpelstiltskin may have done such things, but Mr. Gold was a man of class, dignity, and control. Or at least, he _had_ been until a certain beauty had waltzed back into his life.

As soon as Belle had come back, Gold had felt the madness within beginning to grow in power. His heart throbbed for vengeance against Regina, and restraining such violent impulses simply added to his stock of anger.

To make matters worse, with each look at Belle's beautiful face Gold was reminded of the love he had thrown away, the happiness he had sacrificed, and all the time that had been wasted. Remembering the past was like being stabbed repeatedly with a blunt sword, and it made his stomach turn. His instinct was to destroy the thing that evoked such devastating sensations inside of him, but he'd never wanted to attack Belle. Belle, the sweet and innocent Belle. The woman that had loved him once. The woman that he had never stopped loving.

_It wasn't a threat_, he pleaded with her inside his mind, _I would never hurt you... If you leave it will be Regina- the witch will be the one to kill you. I'm trying to protect you, can't you see? _

The intense anger that had been building up over the past week slowly spiraled away like water down a drain, leaving his emotional well all dried up. Feeling utterly empty and melancholy, Gold trailed his way upstairs to go to bed for the night.

As he passed Belle's door, he heard the soft but unmistakable sound of crying. Hating himself more than ever, Gold ignored the tightening of his chest and simply continued on to his own room.

As he prepared himself for bed, Gold found himself fervently wishing that he had not driven Belle away entirely. Perhaps there was something of this twisted relationship to be salvaged- but for that to be possible, he would have to control himself.

Gold closed his eyes and made a vow never to make Belle cry again.

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><p>The master and his servant ignored one another for the next few days, content to live under the same roof without actually communicating. Esme was still scared of Mr. Gold, and he did not want to frighten her off, so he kept at a distance. After another week had passed by however, the mood in the house made a sudden change for the better.<p>

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><p><em>Alas, my love, you do me wrong,<br>To cast me off discourteously.  
>For I have loved you well and long,<br>Delighting in your company._

_Greensleeves was all my joy,_  
><em>Greensleeves was my delight.<em>  
><em>Greensleeves was my heart of gold,<em>  
><em>And who but my lady Greensleeves.<em>

"Where did you learn that song?" Esme spun around from dusting the mantelpiece to face Mr. Gold, who was leaning against the doorframe, his cane clenched firmly in hand. Her heart began to beat uncomfortably fast, but she was comforted to see that his gaze was entirely devoid of emotions.

"I... I don't really know," she admitted, lowering her head to hide the sadness in her eyes. Esme hated that she could remember nothing of her past. If only she tried a bit harder, pushed a bit harder, perhaps the memories would come rushing back, she thought... but this was never the case, and it always upset her.

"Well. Please continue, your voice is lovely."

Esme's head snapped up in surprise. From across the room, they locked eyes. Esme felt her breathing slow and she sensed some indescribable, invisible thread stretching across the distance of the room and tying her to Gold. She did not know why it was there; all she knew was that in that instant time seemed to stop and the rest of the world faded. For some reason, Esme felt as though Mr. Gold was the only true thing, as though everything else around her was no more than a movie set that would come crashing down at any moment.

Mr. Gold gave a small smile and shifted his eyes, breaking the connection. Shocked, Esme pulled in deep breaths and looked away, stepping backwards. As she did so, Esme knocked into a clock sitting atop his mantelpiece. After his meltdown the previous week, Gold had brought in a new clock from his pawn shop to replace the one that he had destroyed. Now this clock was threatening to shatter on the floor as well. Teetering on the edge, the clock fell, but luckily Esme whirled around and caught it in time. Looking anxiously at Mr. Gold, afraid that her clumsiness would bring to mind the horrible event of the previous week, she replaced it to its spot saying,

"I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to knock it off-"

"Esme," he cut in quietly. She looked at him, waiting for the explosion. "It's only a clock dearie. Besides, it's not broken. Not even chipped."

Esme smiled in immense relief.

"No... No it isn't, you're right."

"Do you know how to cook?" he asked suddenly.

"Very little," she told him, "but I am sure that I would have no trouble following a recipe."

"Excellent. Have dinner ready by seven then."

Esme nodded, but he had already turned away, taking her agreement for granted. Esme watched his retreating figure for a moment, wondering about her master's apparent change of heart. Perhaps he truly felt bad for the way he'd treated her... or maybe he was simply mentally ill and his moods had a habit of going up and down; she had no way of knowing. Sighing, Esme brushed her hands off and headed into the kitchen to begin her new task, humming quietly to herself to calm her mind. In the midst of her bustling however, something rather odd struck her.

Had he said 'not even _chipped_'? What a strange word to use. Wouldn't people normally say 'not even _cracked_', if they were talking about a clock? How would you even chip a clock?

Mentally smacking herself for getting distracted from the task at hand, Esme brushed aside all thought of the non-chipped clock and focused her efforts on cooking an excellent dinner for two. Maybe then she and Mr. Gold could begin to repair their own cracked relationship.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: Thank you to all my readers! Please continue to review: all comments and critiques are incredibly helpful and uplifting. I'm sorry this chapter isn't quite as long. I hope you enjoy!_

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><p>The Mayor was at the end of her wits. Even her dark hair, normally so straight and prim, was showing the strain she was under. The strands of black were sticking out, beginning to fray and frizz, as if the electrical wiring inside her brain was sizzling erratically and sending electric sparks through each string of hair. Staring aggressively into her mirror, she stupidly wished that the Genie was still trapped in there, somewhere where she could confide anything in him without any troubles. This world's version of the Genie, <em>Sidney<em>, was even more of a weakling than he'd been in the other world, and she could hardly tell him about such important matters.

Two weeks had gone by now and Belle still had not been found. Such failure was incomprehensible to Regina, and entirely unacceptable. She gritted her teeth just thinking over her conversation with the town's so-called chief of police earlier that day.

"_I'm doing my best Madam Mayor."_

"_Your best? This is your best? It's been _two_... _weeks_... Miss Swan. Two weeks, and you've found nothing."_

"_What more do you want me to do?"_

"Find _her! _That's _what I want you to do! It's clear enough at this point that someone has decided to keep her under their roof. Your job is to find out who."_

"_Well I could always put out advertisements, or you could ask if anyone has seen her at the next town meeting. That seems to me to be the best way to go about it."_

"_No. I already told you, Miss Swan: this investigation must be done quietly. If I hear so much as a whisper out of your lips about this matter, to_ anyone_, I'll have you brought up on charges."_

"_Well what would you like me to _do_ then?"_

"_Search the whole town if you must. Go door to door. Go inside. Look around. But _don't_ tell anyone why you're doing it."_

"_It seems to me that if someone's kept her this long without reporting her, they'd have no reason not to hide her if I come knocking."_

"_Then don't go knocking. Kick down their doors when they're not at home and search each and every house."_

"_I can't do that!"_

"_Oh I think you can."_

"_Absolutely not. Unless I have substantial evidence that a specific person is harboring her, I can't simply break into houses without warrants."_

"_You're the chief of police. You can write your own warrants."_

"_I'm not _that_ kind of chief of police."_

"_... Fine. But when this all ends horribly, don't say I didn't warn you."_

Regina tried to ignore the prickling worry in the back of her mind, but the worry grew louder and louder until it was a forceful whisper.

-_Gold has her. Gold's the one that has her._-

Her pulse beat erratically at the very thought. If he had her back, Lord knows what would happen. She couldn't risk it. Perhaps Belle was somewhere else. After all, most of the people in the town disliked the Mayor, so it wasn't completely crazy to believe that someone might have pitied the girl and taken her in just to spite Regina.

Breathing deeply, Regina stared at her cold dark eyes in the mirror. She had to remember to stay calm about this. Panicking would do no good at all. And this was a very delicate matter. If Gold was _not_ the one keeping Belle, going to his house to search would only set off alarm bells, and then perhaps he _would _find out. But then again... what if he _did_ have her?

Regina smoothed down her business suit, trying to look calm. The face snarling back at her from the mirror gave her away. She felt as unsure and anxious as she had when she hadn't known positively whether or not Mr. Gold remembered his life as Rumpelstiltskin. She'd done her best to be subtle about drawing the truth out of him, and finally she'd succeeded. But how could she find out this time? How could she trick him into revealing whether or not he knew that Belle was alive without giving away the game if he didn't?

Shoving the matter briefly from her mind, Regina plastered an empty smile on her face as she heard the front door slamming shut. Henry was home. Belle would have to wait.

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><p>They sat at opposite ends of the table, eating dinner in silence. Esme could not control the frequent impulse to glance over at her companion, but apparently he was perfectly content to stare at his plate for the duration of the meal. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Esme wished to break it anyways in order to converse with Mr. Gold so as to learn more about him. But she could think of nothing to say. Finally, she remembered something she'd been longing to ask him earlier.<p>

"Mr. Gold?" His head quickly snapped up and he raised his eyebrows attentively. "I've cleaned the house several times during my stay, but I haven't been able to get into the attic. The door seems to be locked."

Gold stiffened momentarily, but the expression disappeared quickly. Flashing her a tight, humorless smile, he said,

"Well then, no need to worry about the attic. I never use it."

"Well that's all the more reason to go in. You know, to see what's stowed away up there," she retaliated, giving him a teasing smile. Setting down his silverware, Gold perched his elbows on the table and leaned forward.

"Don't _worry_... about the _attic_... Rooms are usually locked for a reason dearie. Leave it alone." The smile faded slowly from Esme's face as she took in his serious expression. Staring him firmly in the eye, she said,

"Yes sir. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to push." Mr. Gold waved a hand dismissing the matter, smiling again. Neither Esme nor Mr. Gold mentioned the lingering tension in the air. Despite his insistence—or perhaps _because_ of it—Esme was more determined than ever to somehow get into the attic, just to see what was in there. Unfortunately, she had a bad feeling that Gold was not entirely oblivious to this new determination inside of her. But neither of them said anything about it. Instead, Gold changed the topic, attempting to drive the mystery from her mind. He didn't want her poking away up there. He doubted she'd ever find the key to get in, but the girl did have a limitless amount of time stuck in the house, so he'd rather avoid the situation entirely if possible.

"I hope you are finding your stay here to be... moderately comfortable?"

"Absolutely," she confirmed, "It's very kind of you to let me stay, and provide me clothes and food and such. I don't know where I would be right now if it weren't for you."

"Esme," said Gold sharply, quite out the blue. Esme was confused to see that he seemed to be struggling with his next words, as though he were embarrassed or anxious. "I wanted to... apologize for my actions towards you. I understand that I am a hard man to live with, but I never intended to... frighten you."

Esme did not know what to say. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't frightened her or that he wasn't a hard man to live with. Somehow she knew that he wouldn't appreciate polite lies, and she didn't want to give them anyways. After a minute, the appropriate response came to her.

"I forgive you," she replied softly.

If you had asked Esme at that time, she would have said that Mr. Gold was smiling at her, when in reality his serious expression had not shifted. Though she did not realize it fully, she received this impression due not to any upwards turn of his mouth, but to the unusual kindness and tenderness that had gathered in his dark eyes.

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><p>Gold was just about to go to bed when Esme rushed over to him, already in her nightgown, clutching a book tightly to her chest. A painful throb echoed through his heart at the sweet and delicate air of the young beauty. There was a brightness shining from her innocent eyes, and her smile was soft, though apprehensive. Her light blue nightgown dusted the floor quietly as she moved, and every movement she made was graceful and dignified. Not for the first time, Gold made a silent promise never to let her leave again.<p>

"Mr. Gold?" The older man snapped to attention, smiling genteelly at the beautiful young woman of his dreams.

"And what can I do for you at this time of night?"

"I was wondering if you would mind terribly if I took this book to my room for the night, so that I may continue reading it."

"You're very fond of this book then?"

"Oh yes," she replied excitedly. "Very much. She's just escaped into the forest, see? And she's left no way for her prince to track her down but... I'm sure he will. But I feel I just may _burst_ if I'm not able to finish the book right away."

"Well I most certainly do not want you to burst," he teased lightly. "However, if you like the book so much, why don't you just keep it?"

Esme was startled, and she stared at her master in amazement.

"What, keep it as my own?" Gold shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a betraying twinkle in his eye.

"Why not? I give it to you freely." Esme remained shocked for a moment, but then a sassy grin slipped onto her face.

"Though in all honesty, it doesn't really change anything—whether you own it or I own it—seeing as we _do_ live together. So it makes no difference at all, really."

Mr. Gold grinned and let out what Esme felt was a rather uncharacteristic giggle. But wait, no, it wasn't uncharacteristic at all. Esme put a hand to her forehead as violent, vivid images flashed through her mind's eye. They appeared and vanished again too quickly for her to process them. All that remained was the assured feeling that Gold often looked like he did at the moment: giddy, grinning, and giggling. But... that was odd, because as she tried to think over the past two weeks, she couldn't think of seeing such an expression on his face before.

"What's the matter?" he demanded immediately, his face molding back into his familiar, serious expression. Gold rushed to her side and looked intensely between her blue eyes. Esme was surprised to see such honest concern in his eyes, and it made her feel strangely warm inside, though she couldn't fathom why.

"It's nothing," she assured him, putting on a smile, "I felt a bit faint for a moment, that's all. I feel fine now."

"Are you certain?" he insisted. Esme laughed gently.

"I promise. If you don't mind Mr. Gold, I think I'll head to bed now."

Gold nodded and she brushed past him, accidentally allowing their hands to brush as she did so. Both man and woman felt an immediate tingling that spread through their fingers, up through their arm, until their entire body had lit up and was tingling warmly. Esme's heart began to beat rapidly, unsure at all what to make of this reaction, and she increased her pace up the stairs. Gold's heart reacted similarly, though he knew exactly why the touch of her hand had sent a wonderful shiver through his body. Spinning around, he watched silently as the woman he loved disappeared around the corner of the upstairs floor.

After taking a moment to calm his raging heartbeat, Gold began to clunk upstairs himself to begin the arduous task of falling asleep. Nowadays, he found it much more difficult to do so than he ever had before Belle's sudden arrival. After all, why would anyone want to fall asleep when their perfect dream existed only when they were awake?


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Thanks for reading! Please review if you continue to like the story and would like to see more. Feel free to critique or give suggestions as well._

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><p>Esme and Mr. Gold were just sitting down for dinner when they heard a loud knock at the front door. Gold's head whipped around and he stared towards the front of the house. After a moment he turned back to Esme, who was simply standing motionless unsure what to do.<p>

"Go into the bathroom and lock yourself in," he commanded firmly. "Stay until I knock and tell you to come out. Until then, don't move." She was momentarily surprised, but she nodded and rushed off to do as he said. Gold grabbed his cane and made his way to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

"Well, well, well," he said, returning the woman's chilly smile with one of his own, "And what can I do for you, dear?"

"There are a few things I need to discuss with you. Perhaps you might invite me into your home?" Regina asked with faked politeness. Gold chuckled a bit, giving the Mayor a disbelieving, condescending look.

"I think I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

"And why would that be?" Regina's voice had become harsh and her eyes drilled holes into Gold's head even as the tight smile remained plastered on her face. "Are you trying to hide something from me, Mr. Gold?"

"Hide something? If you'll recall, it wasn't so very long ago that you encouraged a man to rob me and you yourself took something rather precious of mine. I think I have plenty of reason not to want you in my house."

"Trust me; I have no intention of stealing anything. If that's your only concern, you may as well let me in."

"I'd like you to leave now, if you don't mind. And I don't want you ever to come into my house again. _Please_."

Finally the smile faded from Regina's face and she lifted her head defiantly, her mouth curling into a sneer.

"Fine. We'll discuss my business later. It's not a problem." Gold smiled innocently at her and nodded politely.

"Excellent, dear. I'm glad to hear it."

"Goodbye... Mr. Gold," murmured Regina as she turned away, her voice tense with restrained anger. Gold watched Regina disappear back into her car, and only when she revved the engine did he shut the door and limp his way to the bathroom. He knocked lightly.

"You can come out now," he whispered. With a soft click, Esme stepped out of the bathroom, looking a bit pale.

"Are you alright?" he checked. Esme nodded and made her way back to the table, sitting down to her dinner. Gold followed her example, but his concerned eyes kept a close watch on her.

"Who was it?" asked Esme, feigning disinterest in her question as she poked at her meal. Gold paused, and then met her eyes with a firm look.

"It was Regina, the town's mayor."

"And what did she want?"

"She suspects that I have you here." Esme gave a start and stared nervously at Gold, wide-eyed. All thoughts of her food were gone.

"Who is she?" she demanded quickly, "Is she the woman I saw in the cell?" Gold nodded.

"And she... she _told_ you that she thinks I'm here? What did you say?" she questioned, almost succeeding at masking her frantic nerves.

"Oh no no, she told me nothing. But there's no other reason she would have come. She still is not sure, but she is more suspicious even than before," explained Gold.

"But then, what if... what if she comes back for me when you aren't here?" The fear had already vanished from her voice, replaced with steady determination. Gold smiled gently. He had always admired Belle greatly in this respect. She was so very skilled at adapting quickly to new situations, and she had remarkably impressive inner strength.

"No need to worry about that, dearie," he assured her, "I hold certain... power over her. She'll never come into this house again. A long time ago, as soon as I got the house in fact, I made it clear to Regina that my property is my own and that she was not to step a foot inside of it, except with my personal invitation. And now that you're here, I'll never let her in again, simple as that."

"But how can you trust her to keep her word not to break in?" questioned Esme amazedly. She was not doubting Gold, she was merely curious. It warmed Gold's heart to see how thoroughly she trusted him, even now.

"She doesn't really have any choice in the matter. It's not something to be explained, but I assure you, you're safe in this house."

"Thank you... Mr. Gold." Esme smiled softly at her employer. The two slowly began eating again, that is, until Esme's brow furrowed and she set her fork down once more. Looking up at Gold, she said,

"Why is it that we haven't gone to the police?"

"Sorry?"

"What she did to me... locking me up all those years, it _can't_ be legal! Why haven't we reported her? She could be behind bars her_self_ right now, and I wouldn't have to worry about her. In fact... I truly can think of no reason why you shouldn't have turned her in. Why are you keeping me here? If you have power over her, as you claim, why aren't you using it for my sake?" Esme's forceful tone had become accusatory as she thought more and more about the peculiar predicament. It amazed her that she hadn't thought of these questions before, and now she was angry at Gold for keeping her captive when it clearly wasn't necessary.

"Yes, perhaps she would behind bars, but briefly. She would find a way out faster than you can guess. And then she would know for certain that I had you here. She would find a way to get you out, and there are many in Storybrooke that would help her, to spite me. The only person despised more in this town than Regina, is myself. Turning her in would be too risky. My power is greater than Regina's, but even I am limited. Pushing those limits could be fatal."

"Most despised person in town?" repeated Esme confusedly, "Why?" Gold gave a sad, humorless smirk.

"I'm a fairly hard man to like, dearie."

"No!" exclaimed Esme immediately, "No you're not, you're just a bit... rough around the edges perhaps." Surprised, Gold's gaze softened and he even dared to smile at the naïve young woman.

"Thank you. ...Please believe me when I say that if there was any way to free you, I would. I simply cannot do-"

"I believe you," cut in Esme sweetly, "It's alright. I'm sorry I got upset. I truly am grateful for what you've done for me. It's just that... being cooped up inside all day sometimes gets to me and I suppose that woman's visit set me on edge a bit."

"I wish I could do more to protect you," whispered Gold painfully.

The incredible amount of grief and concern in Gold's voice stunned Esme and her breath caught in her chest. Gold seemed to hear himself as he said the words aloud and he cleared his throat, shaking his head lightly as if to extinguish his sentimental instincts.

Esme's innocent blue eyes searched desperately in his dark veiled ones, wondering what had prompted him to say such a thing, wishing to understand the compassionate and passionate spark that she sometimes saw in him, like at this time. If only she knew why he felt that way. Was he simply an extremely sympathetic man? His reputation in town seemed to refute that. Then it had to be something about Esme in particular that brought it out in him. But what? And _why_? Oftentimes Esme felt that Gold had known her previously: it was the only explanation that made sense in her mind. But Gold certainly never said anything to indicate whether her conjecture was correct or not. And if he _had_ known her before her imprisonment, why wouldn't he mention it? It all just was very confusing; none of it fit together in a logical way.

"Mr. Gold? Will you... tell me about yourself?"

"What could you possibly want to know?" Esme grinned.

"Anything. Everything? Oh, just talk to me! What was your childhood like, do you have any siblings, when did you go into business for yourself... What are your hobbies? Interests? ... Loves?" This last one was emphasized, a sly but gentle smile teasing Gold from her rosy cheeks.

"There's little of interest to tell," he said obstinately, though his small teasing smile showed how he truly meant it.

"I don't believe you," she replied sassily. Gold grinned at the mischievous light in her eyes, so he sighed and looked away, thinking over his memories and wondering what he could tell her. Not much, but some perhaps.

"I didn't have any siblings. Barely even had parents. I left them early on. I fought in a war. I had... a family."

"A _family_," Esme exclaimed immediately, very surprised. When he looked directly into her eyes she blushed at her outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean- Not to say that- I just haven't seen anything around the house to suggest that you had a family. ... What happened?"

"They left me," he said tersely, "My wife and my son. The only things I had in the world. After that I... became more of the man I am now."

"And after that... there was no one else?" Gold looked at her sharply.

"Why do you ask?" Esme felt a bit nervous now, and she tried to back off.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, I was only curious. You don't have to-"

"It's fine," he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. Taking his time inhaling a deep breath, he finally mustered the strength to continue on. "There was another woman once. Briefly, very briefly. But I... we had a fight. I told her to leave and she did. ... As she was leaving she told me that all I'd ever have was an empty heart and a chipped cup."

A wave of understanding washed over Esme as her mind flashed to a picture of an old, chipped white cup with a blue pattern. She had noticed it towards the beginning of her stay, as it was perched in one of his cabinets with other trinkets. She had wondered vaguely why he had it kept as if on display, but she hadn't thought much of it. Now things made more sense.

"Then... that cup. That little, blue and white chipped cup was... hers?" Gold grimaced and looked down at his plate, the tension evident in his neck and jaw.

"No, mine," he corrected, "She... dropped it once, and it chipped."

"Oh I see... and that's why she said...

"That's a horrible thing to say," said Esme quietly. Gold chuckled.

"She was right," he admitted in a pained whisper, even as he attempted to keep an apathetic grin on his face to mask his feelings.

"No," disagreed Esme decidedly, "She wasn't right. I'm sure you've got much more than that." The sad, numb glance Esme received sent a pang through her gut.

"You have _me_," she said without thinking. As soon as the words had left her mouth, Esme's heart began to beat too quickly, and she bit her lip regretfully. What was she thinking, saying such presumptuous things? She'd probably only angered him by it. She could hear him snarling in her mind: _You? And what good are you to me? Why should having you mean anything at all?_ Esme flinched, wishing she could take back the words, and yet she said nothing, not even to retract her statement. She didn't want to appear weak or flighty, that was even worse.

To her surprise, when she glanced back at Gold after a moment, he looked completely shocked, numb almost. There was a glaze in his eyes as he stared at her, a hopeful sheen and a wishful spark.

"I have... you?" he whispered. Emboldened by his reaction, Esme nodded fervently.

"Yes. You have me. If that means anything. I think you are a very... worthwhile person Mr. Gold. I'm so sorry for what you've lost. I would be very happy to be... friends. If you would... like that." Gold remained silent for another moment before a weak smile fluttered onto his lips.

"I think... yes. I would like that very much, dearie."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note_: _I know this chapter is short, but I wanted you all to know that I haven't forgotten about this story. Please review! Also, now that this is officially AU, should I continue it or no? Just curious to hear your opinions. Either way, enjoy!_

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><p>Esme gazed out the window wistfully. It was a beautiful day out. White, fluffy clouds in a bright blue sky. The sun shining down as if heaven itself were smiling. The leaves of the trees waving tantalizingly in the wind.<p>

Esme released a sigh and she absentmindedly stopped cleaning the surface of the kitchen counter, her hand coming to a rest as her mind was filled only with thoughts of the outdoors.

Sudden clarity broke through her vague dreams and she snapped alert. Eyes flicking rapidly back and forth, Esme observed the forest that lay just behind Mr. Gold's house. Her heart began thumping quickly at the very thought beginning to fester in her mind. Nervously she glanced around her, though she knew quite well that the house was empty. Gold was at work and would be still for some hours.

He'd have no way of knowing if she went for a little jaunt in the woods.

The idea filled Esme with exhilaration, the kind she used to experience on the rare occasion in her cell when she'd believed in the possibility of escape. Making up her mind quickly, Esme jumped up and rushed to the back door.

Her hand paused lightly on the knob. Closing her eyes as though this would somehow shield her from the betrayal she felt she was committing, Esme slowly twisted the cold metal.

Esme opened her eyes and gazed outside. She stumbled through the doorway, a huge grin beaming from her face.

Finally! To be reunited with nature again after these weeks cooped up in Gold's house. First she had been stuck in a cell for as long as she could remember, with no ability to visit the outside world, and then she had immediately become a—more comfortable—prisoner in Mr. Gold's home.

In short, she dearly missed nature. She missed all of it. And as she kicked off her shoes and let the soft grass tickle her feet, Esme realized that she wouldn't have been able to spend one more day away from all this. She'd slowly been going crazy… but no more. She'd simply disappear into the deserted forest for a few hours and then return home before Gold got home from work. He would never be any the wiser. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

* * *

><p>Gold glanced up from his paperwork as the shop bell jingled happily. The person strolling into his shop sent a smirk to his face. Despite himself, Gold found that he rather liked the town's new sheriff; she was more interesting to deal with than the rest of the dull town at least.<p>

Emma walked straight up to the counter behind which Gold stood, her expression serious. Then again, she always tended to be in a serious mood when she found it a necessity to call upon the owner of the pawnshop.

"And what can I do for you today, Miss Swan?" he asked politely, still smirking. Emma fixed her gaze on him and tossed something onto the counter.

"Explain these to me."

Gold looked down curiously and picked up the stack of papers she had dropped there. Casually perusing the white sheets, he maintained a perfectly cool façade, though his mind immediately began turning wheels. As soon as he'd decided upon his course of action, he set the papers down and looked back towards Emma.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Gold replied, pretending to be serious, though they both knew he was only teasing her to prickle her nerves.

Gold grabbed his cane and limped away, making his way towards another of the counters, pretending he had something to occupy himself with. In all honesty, he simply hated standing still. Emma followed him, staying on the customer side of the counters as he began fiddling with a small clock.

"These receipts show that in the past several weeks you've begun purchasing almost twice the amount of food at the grocery store that you previously bought. You've also made several trips to the department store and come out with clothing made for young women, not… men."

Gold grinned at her faltering last words.

"It's alright, dear, you can call me old. I take no offense to it." His nose crinkled as he smirked again. Emma ignored this comment.

"I'm giving you the chance to admit the truth, Mr. Gold," she said severely. "Otherwise I'll be forced to obtain a warrant to search your house and I'll have to arrest you for obstruction of justice."

Gold met Emma's fierce and unrelenting gaze.

"Actually Miss Swan, I'm afraid I can't let you do that," he told her assuredly. Emma's eyebrows rose dangerously at his arrogance.

"Well I'm afraid you can't _stop_ me," returned Emma in a harsh voice. Without waiting for a response, Emma turned away from the man and began making her way towards the exit.

"Uh, Miss Swan," Gold called out in a singsong voice. Halting, Emma warily turned back to face him. His unchanged self-assured expression made her feel sick to her stomach, little though she cared to admit it. She had a bad feeling that he would indeed have some way to stop her. This was Mr. Gold she was dealing with, after all.

"Do you happen to remember that little deal that we made?" he questioned lightly, "If I remember correctly, which I do of course, you owe me… a favor. Isn't that right?"

Emma's heart grew cold at his words.

"What is it that you're saying?" she asked, her voice strangled.

"I'm saying, dear, that I'm cashing in on that favor. And here's what it is. You will do none of the following things: arrest me, break into my house with or without a warrant, or tell Regina _anything _of your discoveries. In fact, rather than turn in my… ward, you shall help me to protect her. Is that all very clear, Miss Swan?"

Mr. Gold's characteristic smirk and stubbornly arrogant and amused attitude had vanished, replaced with a deadly serious man. Emma was stunned by the magnitude of his demands and was about to reply when he continued speaking.

"It may interest you to know, however, that I believe most strongly that you will agree with me on these matters. Any lies that Regina has told you are merely that: lies. Filthy, twisted lies," Gold spat the words bitterly off his tongue.

"I've seen the records," argued Emma firmly, "This girl that you have taken in is mentally unstable. She could hurt herself. She'll go crazy, if she hasn't already."

"And who gave you those records?" hissed Gold, angrily stepping out from behind the counter and towards Emma, frustrated with her stubborn stupidity. He expected better of her. "The Mayor?"

The Sheriff offered no response, instead clenching her jaw. But Mr. Gold could see in her eyes that Emma was considering his words, possibly weighing her trust in the two villains.

Apparently she decided that something made Mr. Gold more trustworthy than Regina. The fact that she'd been suspicious of Regina ever since she'd demanded that the investigation remain a secret probably helped to contribute.

"You're sure that this girl isn't clinically insane?" Emma demanded, needing to be absolutely positive before making a wrong decision. Gold's expression relaxed at his words and a small smirk graced his features again.

"Positive, dear. You see… I knew her before she was locked away. If I'd known her fate I would have…" Gold trailed off, his eyes gazing off into the air.

If Emma hadn't known better she would have thought there was a sheen in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Somehow she felt her heart going out to the man in front of her. She was shocked! She'd never seen him look so emotional, so… human.

The look was gone quickly, but Emma's sympathy didn't disappear with it. Regardless, Gold blinked his vacant thoughts away and stared at Emma again.

"No matter. There is nothing to be done now. You may leave, Miss Swan. If I ever need your assistance with this matter I shall… call you."

Startled once more, this time by his sudden dismissal, Emma turned to leave, making her way to the door confusedly.

"And Miss Swan? Don't forget, not a _word_ to Regina."

Emma nodded vaguely and stepped out of the pawnshop, feeling a bit as though she had been entranced. Putting a hand to her forehead, she tried to shake off the hazy feeling that had overtaken her. As her head began to clear, she made her way to the police car, evaluating everything that had occurred today and what it would mean from here on.

* * *

><p>Gold watched Emma's retreating figure, feeling satisfied that his <em>deals<em> at least still held some weight in this world, even if his true magic powers had gone forever. It had been somewhat of a shame that Gold had been forced to use up his only favor with Emma, but as he thought about it, Gold realized there was no better way he could have used it than for Belle's protection.

Though Gold felt satisfied with the way his meeting with Emma had gone, he still felt a bit uneasy inside. He scolded himself for these irrational feelings and returned to his paperwork, grasping the pen firmly in his hand and lowering it down to the paper.

Nothing. He couldn't focus. He couldn't force his hand to go through the motions of writing. With a sigh, Gold gave it up. Though he knew that Belle was safe at the moment, he also knew that he wouldn't be content until he saw her again, saw with his own two eyes that she was still there. Still alive and whole, brown hair streaming, blue eyes shining.

Following his instinctive need, Gold briskly limped to the exit of his shop and flipped the sign to show that the store was closed. He then made his way through the doorway and headed off for home, sure that he would feel better once he saw Belle there.


End file.
